


Breathless

by alexis (of_too_minds)



Series: Belonging [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Breathplay, M/M, PWP without Porn, Slash, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/of_too_minds/pseuds/alexis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to “Corporal Punishment.” Jack promised John a reward for good behaviour. It’s time to pay up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathless

Jack watched idly as John manhandled a Weevil through the Hub and into one of the containment cells. The alien had the advantage over John in both height and weight – being a full head taller and half again as broad – but it seemed almost eager to get inside the cell and away from the rogue Time Agent. Jack could sympathize. One of the first lessons he’d ever learned about his erstwhile partner was not to underestimate him based on his small stature.

 

Gwen hung back, content to let John do all the heavy lifting. She kept a careful eye on the proceedings though, one hand clutched around the anti-Weevil spray and the other ready to draw her gun. Jack didn’t miss the fact that her watchful gaze tended to linger longer on Captain John than the Weevil.

 

That she volunteered most days to partner John surprised Jack to no end. After her encounter with John’s killer lips, he anticipated having to keep a minimum safe distance between them at all times. But instead of steering clear of the man, if anything the incident seemed to spur her on. Jack shook his head. That girl defined stubborn.

 

For his part, John disliked Gwen the most out of all Jack’s team and he gave her strange warning looks when he thought Jack wasn’t looking, but Jack trusted the man not to attack her again and since his disdain only seemed to galvanize Gwen to become a better agent, Jack let it go. They weren’t trying to kill each other anymore so Jack counted his blessings and left well enough alone.

 

“How’s the girl it attacked?” he asked nonchalantly.

 

Although he was slouched against the wall with his hands shoved casually into his pockets, John noted that Jack was poised to spring into action if the Weevil made an unexpected bid for freedom. He snorted in disgust and slammed the cage door shut. The day he couldn’t handle one pathetic Weevil was the day he’d hang up his holster.

 

The Weevil in question seemed to regain its courage once behind the safety of the glass. It lunged forward, snarling at the captain and baring an impressive display of fangs. John simply cocked one eyebrow and glared coolly back at it. The Weevil cowered away from the cold dead look in John’s eyes and retreated to the very back of the cage. John sneered in satisfaction.

 

“She’s shaken and confused,” Gwen answered Jack, “but I think she’ll be okay after a good night’s sleep.” It went without saying the amnesia pill Gwen slipped her would help even more.

 

“Bint’ll live,” John said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Mebbe she’ll even learn not to go wandering down dark alleys late at night.”

 

“Hmm,” Jack mumbled noncommittally. In his experience, humans took foolish risks all the time in the mistaken belief they were too important to the universe for anything bad to happen to them. Pushing off from the wall, he draped a companionable arm around both Gwen and John and ushered them back upstairs. Leaning his head close to John’s, he whispered, “Someone’s behaving himself. Good boy.”

 

With a snarl, John grabbed Jack by his shirt front and slammed the bigger man into the stairwell wall. “Call me that again and I’ll shove  _this_ ,” he pulled a wicked looking dagger out of somewhere and brandished it under Jack’s nose, “into your gut.”

 

Jack chuckled but raised his hands in surrender.

 

Gwen shot John a disgusted look. “Put that away--” she chided.

 

“--before someone loses an eye,” Jack and John chorused together.

 

Gwen made an inarticulate noise and stomped up the stairs into the main room of the Hub. The captains trailed along behind, heads hanging like naughty little boys caught pilfering cookies. Gesticulating wildly, she launched into lecture on weapons safety and appropriate workplace conduct and how Jack really ought not to encourage John’s wild behaviour. Owen popped his head out of the autopsy lab, smirking broadly as Gwen laid into them. Ianto radiated disapproval, but whether that was for John’s irrepressible nature or Gwen lecturing their boss (again) it was difficult to tell. John sent Tosh a pleading look, but the nervous tech just smiled and shrugged helplessly, not one to interfere when Gwen got a good head of steam going. Fortunately, the tirade was cut off by the ringing of Gwen’s cell.

 

“Best answer that,” John offered helpfully, “it’ll be the little wife.”

 

“Don’t call Rhys that!” Gwen barked. She snapped the phone open and barked a curt hello.

 

Jack and John shared a complicit grin. Saved by the bell.

 

“I don’t know when I’ll be home for dinner, Rhys!” Gwen said in that half fond, half exasperated tone she reserved for her hapless fiance.

 

“He’s mad cause she didn’t call and now the pot roast has gone dry,” John observed in a sotto voice. “Betcha she’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.” Jack and Owen snickered.

 

“I’ve got a ton of paperwork to finish up still,” Gwen argued. “I can’t just leave it.”

 

Jack cupped her elbow to get her attention. “Go home,” he said kindly. His raised hand cut off Gwen’s protest before it could begin. “Go home,” he repeated firmly. “Have a real dinner with Rhys. Get 8 hours sleep.” He turned to the room at large. “All of you… call it a night. There’s nothing here that won’t keep till tomorrow.”

 

The team hemmed and hawed and made no move to leave.

 

“You  _can_  still brood even if we’re in the building, y’know,” John observed wryly. “There’s an empty roof right upstairs.” Jack frowned at him. John winced and made an apologetic face. Apparently roofs were an off-limit topic between them. “Right then,” he announced, rubbing his hands together, “I’m off. Think I’ll go find that girl we rescued. She looked like a goer.”

 

“You stay,” Jack ordered, grabbing the back of John’s jacket and dragging him close. “We’ve got unfinished business.”

 

John’s eyes lit up and he bounced on his toes in excitement. “You heard the man,” he exclaimed, making shooing motions at the rest of the team. “Nighty-night, kiddies.”

 

Ten long minutes later the team was finally on their way.

 

“Do you need me for anything, Sir?” Ianto asked, lingering at the door.

 

John tossed him a leer and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Ianto stoically ignored him, something he’d had much practice in since Captain John Hart joined Torchwood 3.

 

Jack reluctantly tore his gaze away from John to focus on Ianto. “Nope, we’re fine.”

 

The Welshman’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “Goodnight, Sir.”

 

“Night, Yan,” Jack replied. “Sweet dreams.”

 

“Don’t forget your stopwatch,” John piped up. “All sorts of fun to be had with that.”

 

Jack smacked him across the back of the head. John grinned unrepentantly. 

 

“All alone,” he purred after the security door clicked shut behind Ianto. “Whatever shall we do?” John leaned back against the metal railing of the walkway, hips thrust out obscenely and a hungry look in his eyes. “You wanna christen the autopsy table?” he offered. Tilting his head to the side, he paused for a beat then added, “No wait, we did that last week. Hmm, how ‘bout the conference room then?” He giggled and shook his head. “Nope, did that one too.”

 

Jack rolled his eyes. Snagging John by the arm, he towed him down the hall and into his bedroom where he unceremoniously tossed the smaller man onto the bed.

 

“The bed…? How kinky.” John smiled lasciviously. He bounced a little, testing the mattress.

 

Jack ignored him in favour of fiddling with his wrist strap to disable the CCTV.

 

John raised one curious eyebrow. “You think the bird’s been taping us.”

 

“Wouldn’t you?” Jack asked rhetorically.

 

“ ’M not the only one, mate,” John snorted with a meaningful look at Jack, who gave him an unabashed grin in return.

 

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Jack noted sagely.

 

“Hmm, think she’d share?” John mused.

 

“I’m sure she would if you asked nicely,” Jack hinted slyly.

 

“Might just do that,” John nodded. He watched Jack watch him, unconsciously biting his lower lip, his heartbeat racing in anticipation.

 

Jack growled. He wanted to be the one nibbling on that delectable lip. He prowled closer to the bed and the man waiting there in a loose-limbed sprawl.

 

John leered and thrust his hips up. “See anything you like?”

 

“I’d like the view better if it was naked,” Jack replied with a cheeky wink.

 

John grinned and hopped off the bed. The two men quickly began to strip, tossing boots and shirts and pants every which way around the room. Dressing and undressing at speed was something they got a lot of practice with in their years together. Soon enough both men were naked. Matching erections bobbed stiffly against toned abdomens as they closed the distance between them. Jack cupped John by the back of the neck and reeled him in. Lips and bodies collided in a greedy kiss. Jack sucked on John’s lower lip and then bit down, something he’d fantasized about doing all day. The sharp pain drew a needy gasp and a convulsive jerk of the hips out of the smaller man.

 

“So responsive,” Jack murmured as John’s hard cock rubbed and pressed against his own aching flesh.

 

John’s lips parted, no doubt about to lodge a protest, but Jack took advantage of the invitation and slipped his tongue inside instead. Jack kissed John thoroughly, plundering his mouth. John hissed in pleasure. His hands clutched at Jack’s broad shoulders, fingers digging into the skin. The kiss was perfect, hot and demanding with just a hint of teeth. It made John want to roll over and beg for more.

 

Jack cradled the back of John’s skull with one hand, controlling the angle and depth of the kiss. The other hand slid down the length of John’s spine to cup his pert bottom. The soft curve fit just right in his palm, a perfect handful. John whined in the back of his throat as Jack fondled his ass, fingers dipping into the crevice between his cheeks to brush tantalizingly against his hole. He mashed his hips into Jack’s, grinding their erections together. Slick with precum, their heavy cocks slid wetly, the tender skin catching and dragging pleasurably.

 

Hungry for more, Jack awkwardly steered John backwards towards the bed. Lips still locked, they tumbled onto the mattress in a tangled heap. Jack to steel himself to stop kissing John before things got out of hand and he forgot all about the plan. Bracing himself on his forearms, he stared down at where John lay beneath him, pouting at the interruption.

 

John tilted his head to the side, trying to divine the thoughts running through Jack’s head. He wet his lips, savouring the lingering taste of the other man.

 

Jack watched as John’s pink tongue darted out and laved that full lower lip. “I promised you a reward if you behaved,” he said huskily.

 

John’s eyes darkened with lust. His cock twitched against Jack’s hip, clearly voting its support for that plan. “Yeah,” he breathed. “You did. I’ve been a real good boy, Jack.” For once he didn’t protest the much-hated label.

 

“Mmm hmm,” Jack murmured in agreement. “ _So_  good.” He swooped down and claimed a kiss, smothering the sound of John’s needy moans.

 

Leaning over the side of the bed, Jack rooted around in the messy pile of clothes. John’s hand itched to slap the taut rear end that was bobbing and waving in front of him but refrained, not wanting to do anything to deter what promised to be the best shag of his life. Jack emerged triumphant, holding the same knife John had threatened him with earlier. He handed it over solemnly.

 

John took it without a word. He balanced it on his palm, testing its weight, and then flipped it several times into the air. The light glinted off the wicked looking edge as it turned end over end. It was one of his favourite daggers, sharp and deadly. He could do a lot of damage with this knife – make death quick and painless or draw it out for hours. He observed Jack with an indefinable expression for a long moment. “Mebbe next time,” he said in a hopeful tone. Laying the knife down reverently, he reached for his belt instead.

 

Jack watched spellbound as John’s long nimble fingers caressed the heavy leather. His breath quickened at the thought of that belt cinched tight around his neck. Something deep inside him loosened, something he hadn’t realized was tense until this moment. John knew how to press all his buttons. He would make this  _so_  good for both of them.

 

“On your back,” John ordered.

 

Jack dropped his eyes submissively and complied, rolling off John and scooting back towards the head of the bed. He stretched out his long frame, arching his back subtly and wriggling his hips as he settled. John smirked knowingly, familiar with all the little tricks one could use to entice a lover. Draping himself over Jack, he kissed him sweetly and deeply, devouring Jack’s mouth until the need for air forced an end to the kiss. Holding Jack’s gaze, John doubled the belt over his fist and used that hand to caress Jack’s body, gentling him to the feel of leather as if taming a wild horse. Jack shivered.

 

John draped the end of the belt over Jack’s cock, flicking it lightly against the sensitive head. His other hand fondled Jack’s chest, pinching his rosy brown nipples until the nubs were stiff and achingly hard.

 

Jack sucked in deep breath. “Feels so fucking good,” he whispered.

 

“I know,” John replied smugly. Then he faltered, a strange look in his eyes. Usually what John wanted, John took. But this… this mattered too much to treat so shabbily. “Jack…?”

 

Jack reared up, pressing his lips to John’s in a heated but tender kiss. “Yes,” he said firmly. John was palpably shaking with need but still stopped to ask him for permission. He never loved him more than in that moment. “Yes. All the way.”

 

John smiled beatifically. With one last kiss he draped the belt around Jack’s neck, slipping the end through the buckle. Slowly he drew it snug against Jack’s throat. The metal buckle dug into the tender skin. Jack gulped. A shiver ran through this body.

 

John stopped to admire the sight of Jack collared and leashed and then tugged sharply on the belt, restricting Jack’s air flow. The pain sent a jolt straight to his cock, heightening his pleasure. Jack shuddered and gave himself over to the perversity of the act.

 

Smiling at his willing surrender, John eased up the pressure just enough to let Jack draw in a little air. His free hand slipped into Jack’s lap to palm his hard cock. He tightened his grip the way Jack liked it and began to pump slowly from root to tip. Jack moaned as rough calluses created the most delicious friction. His hips began to move in concert with John’s hand, thrusting into his tight fist.

 

John leaned down and swiped his tongue over the head of Jack’s cock, savouring his lover’s taste. He probed the weeping slit with the tip of his tongue, gathering more of Jack’s essence as it bubbled out in a continuous stream. Jack grunted in inarticulate encouragement. He had to fist his hands in the sheets to keep from clutching John’s head and forcing the other man to take him into that sinful mouth. John got pissy when he did that and he didn’t want this delicious torment interrupted.

 

Smirking to himself at how well Jack was behaving, John rewarded him by sealing his lips around the head and sucking hard. Jack moaned and bucked his hips in a futile effort to drive his cock deeper into John’s warm wet mouth. John moved easily with him, only allowing the head to penetrate. He hummed, making Jack groan at the vibrations. John chuckled wickedly, loving the reactions he was eliciting from Jack. His own cock twitched in response and he pressed down with the heel of his hand.

 

Taking pity on the man, he swallowed Jack down to the root. Jack cursed as his cockhead nudged the back of John’s throat. John bobbed his head, slurping and sucking at the long thick prick in his mouth, tracing the pulsing veins with his tongue and gently scraping his teeth over the tender skin. Jack was panting heavily, lost in the pleasure.

 

John raised his head, releasing Jack’s cock with an audible pop. Pillowing his head on Jack’s thigh, he stared at Jack up the length of his body, looking deceptively innocent except for the hand still lazily stripping the cock a few inches from his face. “Lube?” he asked conversationally.

 

Jack stared dazedly at John for several seconds before the words sunk in. He fumbled in the drawer of the bedside table and tossed John the tube. John nodded his thanks and liberally slicked his cock and fingers. Shifting position, he knelt between Jack’s legs. Jack planted his feet flat against the bed and spread his legs wantonly, exposing his balls and the entrance hidden between his firm cheeks.

 

John sucked in a shaky breath. Jack was so delicious when he bottomed.

 

Frustrated that John was looking at him instead of touching him, Jack reached down to take matters into his own hand.

                            

John seized his wrist and pinned it to the mattress. “None a that,” he warned. He yanked on the belt, reminding Jack of the noose he wore. The leather pinched tight around his throat, restricting his ability to breathe. The danger pushed Jack’s arousal higher. He moaned and dropped his eyes.

 

Satisfied, John turned his attention to Jack’s balls. He cupped the swollen sack, weighing and rolling it in his hand, before sliding his hand down between Jack’s cheeks. Jack hummed at the feel of those clever fingers warm and slick at his entrance. Grabbing his legs behind the knees, he held himself open to John’s gaze.

 

John groaned in appreciation at the sight, loving the chance to dominate the bigger man. He stroked the back of Jack’s thighs and down to his hole, fingers tracing the puckered flesh and lightly prodding at the entrance. His thumb dipped inside to the first knuckle. The way that hungry mouth quivered and yielded to him, sucking him in, made his breath catch. He slid two fingers into that tight channel, deftly locating that little bundle of nerves that would reduce Jack to quivering goo and pressed it mercilessly. Jack shuddered and grunted low in his throat, wordlessly demanding more.

 

John added a third finger and spread him open, scissoring his fingers in quick, competent movements. Jack lost himself in the burn, hips rocking as he fucked himself on John’s fingers, fighting for more. Abruptly John pulled away and Jack mumbled a protest, his empty body aching for more.

 

John shuffled forward, tucking his knees under Jack’s hips. He carefully wrapped the end of the belt around his hand, taking up the slack. He held it taut, blue eyes burning with intense need. Jack sucked in a deep breath of air while he still could and nodded his readiness. Lining up his cockhead with Jack’s greedy pucker, John pressed forward and sank inside Jack’s body in one long push. He pulled hard on the belt as he began to thrust, constricting Jack’s air supply.

 

Jack writhed at the contrasting sensations. His pulse stuttered and raced. Every nerve in his body sparked, making his head spin. The pain and headiness of asphyxiation had him ready to spill. The belt suddenly slackened and Jack gulped for air, feeling his abused windpipe burn at the taste of oxygen. His orgasm retreated slightly and Jack whimpered, anxious to cum.

 

“John,” he murmured in a cracked voice. “Do it, John. Fuck me. Kill me.” He knew exactly what to say to push John’s buttons and he did so ruthlessly. “ _Please._ ”

 

John shuddered. Jack was irresistible when he begged. He petted Jack’s heaving belly. “Shhh, I know what you need,” he murmured soothingly.

 

Gripping Jack’s hip tight enough to leave bruises there to match the ones around his neck, John upped the pace and force of his thrusts, slamming into Jack’s body with abandon. Jack met each harsh thrust with a quiet grunt. John’s cock raked against his prostrate, sending electric shocks shooting up and down his spine. He wrapped his long legs around John’s waist, snapping his hips to meet each powerful stroke.

 

John took Jack’s cock in his hand and began to pump, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive head. “Like that?” he asked rhetorically.

 

Unable to speak, Jack nodded frantically. He fought to keep his eyes open, gifting John with an unimpeded view of every sensation coursing through his overloaded body. He held nothing back from his old partner.

 

John hauled on the belt, restricting Jack’s airflow again and forcing his back to arch off the bed. Both men groaned in tandem.

 

The ecstatic look on John’s face as Jack struggled to breathe shouldn’t have been a turn on but it was. Jack’s arousal spiralled higher and higher. The need to cum was imperative. He threw his head back, pulling against the belt, not to get free but to draw it tighter – a willing participant in his own murder. John growled and tightened the noose, cutting off Jack’s air supply completely.

 

Jack’s vision dimmed and went black around the edges, tunnelling in until the only thing he could see was John’s blissed-out face. Those piercing blue eyes watched unblinkingly as Jack fought to come, to breathe, to live. Jack wheezed, panting breathlessly and futilely for air. As ropey strands of cum splattered across his belly, his world went dark.

 

Undone by Jack’s dying, John howled Jack’s name and came harder than he ever had, cum spurting out of him in great scalding jets.

 

Panting heavily, he collapsed on top of Jack. Pressing his ear to Jack’s chest, he listened for a heartbeat. A delighted grin split his features at the silence. He quickly freed his trapped hand, fingers cramped from gripping the stiff leather so tightly. Gently and reverently he loosened the belt from around Jack’s neck and tossed it aside. He nuzzled Jack’s poor abused throat, kissing and licking the chafe marks that faded even as he watched. Propping himself up on his elbows, he peered intently into Jack’s slack face, determined not to miss a thing.

 

Life flared into existence behind Jack’s dull eyes, as sudden as the flick of a light switch. He gasped for breath, drawing in a lungful of precious air. Nerves burned and tingled as renewed life surged through every cell. A muscle spasm shook his body, making him clamp down on the half-hard cock still buried deep inside.

 

John watched Jack resurrect in wide-eyed wonder, rendered utterly speechless for perhaps the first time in his life.

 

“So much beauty in the world,” Jack whispered solemnly, staring directly into John’s awed gaze. He chuckled to himself. John looked as if he’d found religion, and Jack would have told him so but he preferred to keep his balls attached to his dick. Folding strong arms around the smaller man, he pulled him down to rest against his broad chest.

 

John burrowed into that living, breathing warmth. He quivered, shaken to the core. John had been everywhere and done everything. He’d travelled across the universe and through time. He’d watched galaxies be born and die. He’d killed in every way possible. There wasn’t a sensation or a perversity he hadn’t sucked dry. And he’d never experienced anything so profound as this moment. John willingly gave himself over to it.

 

If he could have  _this_ …who needed the stars?

 

Jack lazily stroked John’s spine. He smiled smugly. John was irrevocably his now.

 

 

 

FIN

 


End file.
